Page 64 of The Crown of Moonlight
He pulls me against him tighter.“Wine, compulsion, lust, love.Wishful thinking.”Then his head lifts, every hint of softness gone.“Wait.You think I’vecompelledyou to want me?”
“I’m asking, that’s all.They say those who’ve been touched can never be satisfied, that they’ll do anything anyone wants of them in the hope of feeling the same pleasure.”
“And you think I would do that?To you?”His honey-gold eyes are dark, burning into me, waves of energy seeping out of him as though he’s too angry to contain it.His hand clenches into a fist, and he strikes the shifting bands of runes that circle the thick muscle of his arm.
The blow lands with a thud.The force of it ripples through the cavern.My ears pop, and the fire gutters.
“These oathbands enforce my obedience to the Compact.I swore to them because I believe in them.I don’t believe in taking advantage of someone weaker, whether the weakness is physical, magical, or otherwise.There is nothing desirable about using force.I won’t pretend I don’t want you, Flora—I’ve proven how much.But not like that.Never like that.”
His voice is rough, and the energy coming from him tightens my lungs.But I haven’t finished.
“Is there any other reason why humans would be attracted to—would crave—Siorai?”I ask.
His mouth twists, and there’s something lost and a little broken in his expression.“I swear to you I have no desire to take your power or will away from you.The thought of you giving yourself to a man who wants you for what you can give him instead of loving you for who you are—It makes me want to gut every spineless male in that council of yours.No one should ever try to make you less.Or make you doubt yourself.They should be awed by every careful, calculated cogwork of your mind.You’re brave and fierce, measured and loyal and kind—beautiful enough to haunt a man’s dreams.I know what it’s like to have to live without love, and that should never be your fate.”
His words open a sluice gate, setting free a torrent of all the things I haven’t dared to allow myself to feel.
I reach for him, my hands tangling in the silky strands of his hair and dragging his mouth down to mine.
He kisses me deeply, intently.Beyond the cave entrance, the sun breaks the horizon, changing the colours of the world, but inside, the light is even brighter.Our skin, his skin and mine, glows with a soft, amber light.
Every part of me that felt filled feels hungry again, craving him.I’m alive and awake, and whatever I was before I found Chyr in the Sacred Wood, I know that I will never be that again.
Outside, the wind quiets, and Glen Fhionain holds its breath.Briefly, the watchfires, the war, the long ride to Muilean—it all retreats, leaving nothing but heat and hunger.
Chapter 25
Masks and Promises
Chyr
W
armth blooms like magic from Flora’s skin.She sleeps nestled against me beneath the tangled plaids that cover us, and waking beside her after what we did is a bittersweet ache.I was selfish to bed her, but I wanted—want—her more than I can remember ever wanting a woman.
The weight of what I’ve done tightens my chest, crashing into me all at once.
Flora will be furious when she learns the truth.She won’t care that I tried to warn her.
As if she feels me watching, she opens sleep-soft eyes and blinks up at me, her colour rising as the memories surface.
“Hello,” she whispers with a fragile smile.
The sun is setting, warming the light within the cavern and setting her hair on fire.I drink in the sight.
“How do you feel?”My voice sounds rough.
“Good.”She tips her head, considering.“Stronger.Your magic did more than give me pleasure, didn’t it?”Raising herself on one elbow, she places a palm across the healing scar that cleaves my chest.“Did you give me more than you could afford to give?”
“No.”I trace the line of her jaw, then cup her cheek.She relaxes into the contact, and I lean in and claim her lips.She answers for the space of a heartbeat, meeting my hunger with her own.Then she draws back and catches my hand, turns it, and kisses my palm before letting it drop.
I’d like nothing better than to pull her back to me, to kiss my way back down her body until sounds of pleasure escape her lips.But she gets up, taking the plaid with her to wrap it self-consciously around herself as if she wants to hide her body from me.
Without the plaid, I’m bare.Flora blushes furiously and starts to turn away.Then she stops, and her eyes trace a slow path from my head to my feet instead, as though she’s painting a memory in her mind.My body can’t help hardening even more in response to that, and a smile of something that resembles pride tugs at the corners of Flora’s lips.
I lie back, arms folded behind my head, giving her a good look.“It’s still early, you know.We could find some new ways to use magic that we didn’t get a chance to try last night.”
Her eyes widen, and her lips part slightly, then she goes still.I see the war inside her.Denial and duty, but also curiosity, temptation.Passion.That’s there in everything she does.
